


I Got Fire for a Heart (I Ain't Scared of the Dark)

by overratedantihero



Series: You Don't Own Me (I'm Not One of Your Many Toys) [1]
Category: Batwoman (Comic), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Cuddling, Flirting, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous behavior, Light Handed Exploration of A/B/O, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Undercover, little bit of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 15:46:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15643899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overratedantihero/pseuds/overratedantihero
Summary: Dick insists on going undercover to infiltrate a human trafficking ring against Bruce's will, so he hires his backup at cost.





	I Got Fire for a Heart (I Ain't Scared of the Dark)

**Author's Note:**

> I like how interesting A/B/O dynamics are, but I don't like how reductive they can be. I wanted to a explore a more modern perspective.

Slade perched on the roof of an apartment building in Bludhaven. He had been in Connecticut, negotiating a contract, when the kid reached out. Dick wasn’t one to request rendezvouses, and Slade wasn’t ashamed to admit his curiosity. Dick’s city of choice was no surprise but meeting behind a comically large billboard advertising Nightwing’s presence in Bludhaven felt just a tad gauche.

Right on time, Dick appeared over the top of the billboard. He leapt down, completed two front flips, and then rolled onto the concrete. He stood with his unerring grace and offered a little bow. Slade snorted.

“Cute,” Slade murmured. A primal, useless instinct drove Slade to twitch at Dick’s cloyingly sweet scent (as thick as star jasmine.) Dick was the only Bat who wouldn’t wear scent blockers, and Slade had an embarrassing affection for it. As did most alphas. And Dick shamelessly used that to his advantage in the field.

Dick stretched his arms. “My form was sloppy, don’t take it easy on me,” he chided, leisurely stalking closer. Slade crossed his arms.

“I’d never, little bird,” Slade murmured, narrowing his eye at Dick’s slow saunter. Dick drifted so close he was nearly pressing himself against Slade. But before Dick could slide his arms around Slade’s neck, Slade stepped back and out of Dick’s reach. “You mentioned a prospective contract. I’m a professional, Grayson. Business before pleasure.”

Dick bit his lip and Slade crossed his arms. They stood like that, in silence, for several moments and Slade pre-emptively decided to reject whatever offer the kid had to give.

“I need you to pose as my alpha. I’m open to hourly billing as opposed to your usual lump-sum,” Dick blurted.

“No,” Slade said without hesitation. He uncrossed his arms and allowed himself to relish Grayson’s shocked expression for only a moment before turning to leave.

“Slade! Wait!” Dick called, grabbing Slade’s arm. Slade paused but didn’t turn around. “Deathstroke,” Dick murmured. “You don’t know the details of the task, and you haven’t given me an opportunity to negotiate your rate. Why are you dismissing this?”

Slade looked over his shoulder. “I have no interest in exploring sex politics with you, Grayson. Why don’t you ask a cape?”

Dick flinched and looked up at the sky. Intrigued, Slade shrugged off the hand on his bicep and turned to face Dick. Dick lowered his head, but only to look past Slade.

“It’s, uh. Well. I’m doing reconnaissance on a potential human trafficking ring. But Bruce told me to leave it to Huntress, and Huntress barred me from the investigation but it’s not as if she could get as close as me.” There was no point in disguising the fact most of the Bats were alphas, Slade already knew. “So, I’m going in unauthorized, but the ring is centered around this, well, club. And I wouldn’t be able to get in and out safely without an alpha.”

Dick scratched the back of his head and Slade rolled his eye. If he didn’t go, the kid would still attempt to carry out his half-cocked scheme and risk assault, trafficking, or murder. If Slade did go, he would get paid. He chose to cite the latter in making his decision.

“$825 an hour, plus costs,” Slade offered. Dick beamed.

“$785, plus costs,” Dick countered. Slade considered him for a moment.

“$800, plus costs, and I decide what we wear,” Slade countered. Dick’s grin didn’t falter.

“We have a deal,” Dick murmured, holding out his hand. Slade did not take it.

“If I think for an instant that either of us risks getting burned, I’m pulling back. Do you hear me?” And perhaps Slade was patronizing Dick, but Dick could be impulsive. Slade admired the way Dick wielded his orientation like a weapon. Slade did not want to see that weapon turned against Dick himself.

“We won’t, and yes, I understand. Do we have our terms?” Dick asked, a bit gruffly this time. Fine, let the kid pout. Slade would not see him unnecessarily endangered when he still had so much untouched potential.

“Yes,” Slade agreed. “I look forward to doing business with you.”

* * *

 

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Dick confessed, tugging at the hem of his black, well-tailored button up. Slade grunted and adjusted Dick’s red tie for him, having swatted Dick’s hands away when he’d tried to do it on his own. It was the same shade red as Slade’s tie, except where Dick was wearing a crisp button up over fitted, dark wash jeans, Slade was wearing a gray three-piece suit without the jacket. It conveyed a subtle power difference that neither objectified Dick nor betrayed traditional sensibilities.

“There,” Slade murmured, taking one last swipe at Dick’s hair. He didn’t like the way Dick was beaming up at him. “Go, check in the mirror. I’ve left you cologne in the bathroom.”

Dick left, but only for a moment before Slade heard an indignant squawk.

“Slade! This smells like me!” Dick whined, poking his head out from the bathroom, cologne in hand.

Slade raised his eyebrows. “Yes. It was chosen to enhance your natural scent and make you more appealing towards our subjects without incurring any untoward attention.”

“Don’t you think I should smell like you? If I’m posing as your omega? It feels like you’re advertising me, not, you know,” Dick looked up and away. Slade grew tired of the coy little game in which Dick wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Owning you?” Slade offered, curling his lip. “A subtle approach will be better received than a heavy-handed caricature. Put on the cologne.”

The cologne was a terrible idea, Slade decided as they stood in the short line outside of the club in question. Dick’s scent was enough on its own, now it was nearly suffocating. The controlled reaction from the few people around them led Slade to chalk his sensitivity up to his enhancements.

As the line shuffled into the club, flashing IDs and artificially bright smiles at the bouncer, Slade couldn’t help but notice the abundance of alphas. He exhaled, disguising it as an impatient sigh, and frowned at the open doorway. It was too soon to tell, but Slade had an inkling that this club was predominately alpha, which wasn’t terribly common. It was no wonder Dick felt he may need back up, even with the trappings of self-control and modern morality, that was an aggressive atmosphere for a lone omega.

“Baby, he’s waiting on us, c’mon,” Dick cooed, touching Slade’s lower back and blinking up a him with wide, unassuming, blue eyes. They’d reached the door. Slade blinked and then regained his sense as he dug his wallet out, offering his and Dick’s IDs while also slipping the bouncer a sizeable, and oddly numbered, tip (buyer intel, stolen from Huntress’s file on the ring.) The bouncer grunted his approval and offered them two wristbands, black unlike the wristbands offered to the others they’d seen in line.

Dick withheld his grin until the entered, but as soon as the bouncer was out of sight, he pressed against Slade’s side and murmured, “And Helena doubted me.”

Slade glanced around the room, taking stock of the thick scents and the glances over from where other alphas were picking up Dick’s scent.

“Sh,” Dick shushed, standing on his toes to cup Slade’s face and leaned close, as if to kiss him. Instead, he whispered against Slade’s lips, “I see them, and we’re going to ignore them.” Dick brushed his lips along Slade’s jaw, and then up to his ear, “We were bound to get some stares, if they’re here to buy. We’re here to buy too, remember?”

“Kid,” Slade snarled, a growl sneaking into his tone against his volition. “I don’t need to be patronized.”

“No,” Dick murmured, voice soft as ever, “but you need to relax. You smell aggressive, defensive. This is why I argued against the cologne.”

Slade pulled away and glanced down at Dick, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m raising the rate next time, just for that mouth, kid.”  

Dick grinned up at him and fisted the hem of Slade’s vest. “You love it, don’t lie.”

Slade nearly cupped Dick’s face, but someone cleared their throat behind him and so he glanced over his shoulder instead. A well-dressed man, almost a head shorter than Slade and an alpha, stood, nearly bouncing on his heels.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” the man murmured, glancing first at Slade and then at Dick. His gaze lingered on Dick, more curiously than anything. Slade wrapped an arm around Dick’s waist, which snapped the man’s attention back to him. “I hate to interrupt, but our more esteemed guests are congregating in our private venue for the evening’s activities,” the man flashed his wrist, which sported a black wristband same as Dick and Slade’s.

They followed the man through the pulsing club, Dick’s excitement nearly palpable even as Slade kept a steady hand around him. Slade slowed down their conjoined gait enough to nip Dick’s ear and whisper, “If it comes to it, there’s a pistol strapped to my right ankle. Take it.”

Dick urged him forward, but Slade heard him murmur, “I won’t need it, I have you,” shortly before the man led them to a nondescript door. They passed through, into a dimly lit and plushily carpeted hallway, and the door slammed behind them, immediately cutting off the sound from the main club floor.

Their guide cleared his throat. “I hope the two of you realize that this experience is not for hobbyists,” he began, testily, as he led them down the hallway, past several closed doors with gilded numbers. If not for the evidence of soundproofing and its strange location, it could have almost been the floor of a modest hotel. “All sales are full and final, there isn’t pay-for-play. I’m assuming you’re selling?” The man looked over his shoulder, at Slade.

Dick snaked his arm up Slade’s and clung to Slade’s bicep.

“No, buying,” Slade offered coolly, as if Dick wasn’t bristling beside him.

“Oh. Excuse my presumption,” the man said, not the least bit chagrined as he continued onwards, towards a lone, unmarked door. “It’s just rare to find an omega…comfortable. With our business model.”

“He’s comfortable with whatever I ask,” Slade snapped, disdain dripping in his tone. He disliked the very concept of ownership in his partners. If they couldn’t give as well as Slade gave, they were boring and useless to him. But for the exercise, he weaponized his anger to appear an offended customer, and it appeared to work because the man stiffened before reaching out and unlocking the door.

“Of course. I wouldn’t assume otherwise,” the man mumbled.

This entire venture was a terrible idea.

The room was dark. Dark enough that without his enhanced vision, Slade doubted he’d be able to see other faces in the room, all seated in an amphitheater. Slade and Dick were shuffled along by their guide into two rather high seats; they must have been trailing in right before the auction was to take place. Dick didn’t have the benefit of Slade’s enhancements, and he clung to Slade’s suit vest as they navigated the aisle. Slade watched several heads turn at the scent of the omega, and their guide scowled. Slade wanted to laugh, but with so many unknown variables, the fact that Dick may be more enticing than the actual product wasn’t something Slade wanted to consider too thoroughly.

Once Dick and Slade were seated, alphas in front of them began to shift and fidget in their seats. One glanced back and Slade snarled, actually _snarled_.

“Holy latent instincts Batman,” Dick whispered into his ear, so close that his lips brushed Slade’s skin and so quietly that Slade was impressed Dick could even manage it. “I can smell them too, it’s okay.”

Dick could smell them, he couldn’t _see_ them like Slade could.

“Besides, I’m used to it. Not everyone’s as civil as you,” Dick added. Fiery hot jealousy ignited Slade’s gut. Dick shouldn’t acclimate to that kind of attention. Dick shouldn’t be _exposed_ to that kind of attention. But Slade didn’t want to tear into the alphas around them. That’d be useless. He wanted Dick to tear into them. He wanted them to see what Dick was capable of, and only then would Slade involve himself.

The stage flooded with light and Slade straightened his posture. The bidding was to begin.

By the second omega, Dick was fidgeting. He’d already bid high enough to win the first, and Slade had Dick’s wrist in an iron grip to prevent any further bidding lest they draw unwanted attention to themselves. The bidding itself was electronic, there were tablets under each seat and the seated portion of the room glowed as individuals quietly placed their bids. The omegas on stage were all hazy eyed, scantily clad, and uncoordinated, evidence enough of drug use.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Dick murmured into Slade’s ear. Slade didn’t believe him, but he released Dick’s wrist nonetheless. Let the boy make his own mistakes, Slade was getting paid regardless. Besides, the longer he gripped onto Dick, the greater the urge to bruise him, and Slade didn’t need pitiful, useless things like urges ruling his behavior.

Dick slipped past Slade and two other alphas to get out of the aisle. The first just stole a glance, but the second flagrantly grabbed Dick’s ass. Dick froze, and then Slade watched as Dick leaned down and whispered something that not even Slade could hear into the alpha’s ear. The alpha grinned salaciously and then stood, his hand in Dick’s. He shuffled after Dick as Dick slipped down the stairs and out of the side door, the one they’d entered through.

Slade took a deep inhale, paused, and then exhaled. He would not follow them. He would not tear out that alpha’s throat. He would allow Dick to work.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later or so (long enough for a new omega to be presented for auction), Dick returned to his seat, a little mussed, a little breathy, and smelling distinctly of blood.

“Have fun?” Slade whispered, draping a possessive arm over Dick’s shoulders. He felt justified. Dick giggled and nuzzled Slade’s neck. Slade was sure it had every bit as much to do with the adrenaline as it did their little act.

“Mmhm,” Dick hummed. “Bid, please.”

Slade frowned. “Dick—”

Dick pressed closer, draping his entire torso against Slade and nipping Slade’s earlobe. “Bid. That guy was a False Facer. The organizers put the two of us back here with two False Facers because the bouncer recognized you, and this a Black Mask operation. I paged Red Hood.”

Slade glanced over Dick’s head. The other alpha in their row was watching them curiously, brow furrowing. The alpha glanced towards the door, but his companion didn’t reappear. Slade pulled Dick closer into himself.

“And what’s their source? How are they bringing omegas in?” Slade murmured lowly. The alpha was blatantly watching them now.

“Kidnappings, bars. False Facers or other villains wanting in may bring an omega “date” that ends up on stage before they realize what’s happening. How do you think you managed to get in the front door?”

Slade hummed. “They thought I was selling. They asked earlier, but I said no.”

“’Course you did,” Dick murmured, wiggling to loosen himself from Slade’s grip. “I was still lucid, and not everyone wants a struggle.”

“What about you?” Slade asked, tearing his gaze from where the alpha was standing, lurching towards them. “Do you want a struggle?”

Dick grinned, a toothy grin, and one which brought Slade’s attention to a fleck of blood near Dick’s right sideburn.

“Maybe,” Dick murmured right before the room went pitch black only to explode in flashes of gunfire.

Jason, Kate, Helena. The only ones angry enough and willing to risk the Bat’s ire enough to pull out gunfire during a reconnaissance mission, so of course they were the three that Dick called once he verified that Black Mask was the ringleader. Helena managed to evacuate each, drugged omega while Jason and Kate worked in tandem to pick off the buyers and organizers, nonlethally with the aid of self-control and night vision lenses. In the end, the only omega hurt in the chaos was Dick.

Slade yanked the crossbow bolt out and Dick whined around the cloth shoved in his mouth.

“Toughen up,” Jason muttered. “Slade enlarged the wound for you and everything. He could have just yanked it out. Wouldn’t have but could’ve.”

“What did you do to her?” Kate snorted passing Dick a flask. Dick spat out the rag in his mouth and took several, grateful gulps of whatever Kate had. They were in another room in the impossibly large club (an obvious front, the GCPD should have flagged the building long before) for privacy as they tended to their one (1) wounded.

" _Nothing_ ," Dick rasped, past the burn of the alcohol. 

After everyone had been secured, the omegas sheltered, and the GCPD called, Helena had escaped into the rafters, paused, and then shot Dick in the arm with a crossbow bolt before absconding.

“Dick swiped her mission,” Jason explained. “She was lead. He and his,” Jason glanced at Deathstroke, “went in without her authority.” To Dick, Jason smirked, “Dick move, Dick. Maybe you should apologize.”

Dick blinked at Jason from where Dick sat on the floor, while blood gushed and then trickled from his arm. “I think I’ll write her a card.”

“She’ll forgive you eventually,” Kate said, striding over and watching Slade’s crouched form as Slade patched Dick’s harm with a first aid kit he’d dug up and Dick’s undershirt. “Former military?” Kate asked him, eyeing his quick, practiced improvisation work. Slade grunted.

“Batwoman, would you mind writing the report for B on this one?” Dick asked, voice strained. I think I’m going to ditch here and pass out after this.”

Kate frowned. “No, you’re going to let me take you to the Cave. Alfred will want to see to you.”

Slade snorted. “I have someone. Someone with more trauma experience than former intelligence.”

“What, so, we’re supposed to take B’s conniption when he finds out his one omega’s been hurt?” Jason snorted. “You’re a piece of work.”

“I saved you a False Facer,” Dick offered, “GCPD won’t know he’s missing. Huntress won’t know. Batman won’t. He’s tied up in the bathroom.” Slade finished wrapping Dick’s arm, but he remained close, a hand on Dick’s mid back.

Jason’s face brightened. “Well, Kate. It’s not like we could have stopped them. We were so tied up with containing the scene that Nightwing and Deathstroke just… slipped away.” Jason tsked. “But it’s okay, because we have a tracker on Nightwing, and he’s safe at home. We would never be so reckless and progressive as to let our only omega wander away without ensuring his safety, would we?”

Kate rolled her eyes and pulled out her grappling hook. She sauntered over to the nearest window and popped it open. Outside was near blinding what with the flashing red and blue lights. “I won’t fight your battles. But you’re free to stay at my condo when you’re cut off,” Kate told Dick, before shooting her hook and disappearing.

Jason snorted. “I like her,” he said. To Dick, he added, “if this is another lackey, I’m exposing another one of Slade’s safe houses. The shit you pulled last time won’t fly again.”

Dick shook his head. “No, Little Wing. This is an honest to god lieutenant.”

Jason grunted his approval before sauntering out the front door, leaving Dick and Slade alone.

It was quiet for a moment, and then Dick murmured, “Thank you for behaving.”

Slade snorted. “I’m a professional.”

“Shoot me your invoice,” Dick said, “I’ll have your payment deposited into the Swiss account within a few days.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Slade offered.

“Take me home?” Dick asked, voice wavering for the first time all night. Slade lifted Dick up and sat back, tucking Dick into his lap. Dick was independent and capable, but even he had his limits when it came to issues of trafficking and sexual violence. 

"If I do, Wintergreen will have to convince me to let you go again," Slade warned. Dick snorted, and then nestled his faced into Slade's neck, inhaling his scent. 

"No. Wintergreen will have to convince you to pack away the Renegade uniform. You wouldn't find me half as interesting if you had me put away somewhere."

"I don't know where I'd put you that you wouldn't escape from anyway," Slade admitted. They were quiet for a moment longer, but the harsh footsteps of the GCPD were creeping ever closer as they swept the building, and neither Dick nor Slade were dressed to confront them. Slade stood, heaving Dick up with him, and braced a foot on the open window ledge. Before he jumped, however, he added, "I could always bite you. The Bat would lose his legal claim." 

Dick bit Slade's neck, harsh enough to draw blood. Then, he placed a sweet kiss on the wound and murmured, "Move, before I get grumpy." 

Slade snorted but obeyed nonetheless. 

 

[Check out my Tumblr!](https://overratedantihero.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> One Day I Will Stop Maiming Dick For Fun I Swear.


End file.
